


Bandages

by peacenik_jesus



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 19:25:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16980357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peacenik_jesus/pseuds/peacenik_jesus
Summary: The encounter with the Whisperers has left its mark on Jesus in every sense of the word. As he heals from a near-fatal wound, he wonders how they can defeat this new threat.





	Bandages

The indifferent chorus of the crickets belied the dangers that lurked in the shadows. The eerie fog that had shrouded the cemetery that night hovered over Hilltop, taunting Jesus like an ominous cloud signalling an oncoming storm. Jesus was struck the irrational fear that there was a connection between the fog and the monsters that had seemed to materialize within it, even though logically he knew that the strangers they’d encouraged didn’t actually appear out of thin air. Logic didn’t stop the cold dread that seeped into his bones. Unconsciously, his right hand gently pressed against the lacerated flesh from where he’d been skewered straight through the back, grimacing at the instant pang that bloomed like wildfire and radiated straight through to his shoulder blade.

Siddiq had told him it was nothing short of a miracle that the blade had missed the clavicle vein and artery by mere millimeters. A nick in either would have been fatal, as Jesus would have bled out before Aaron had gotten him back to Hilltop.

The platform groaned under added strain, heralding a new arrival on the lookout platform near the gates. Jesus didn’t even need to look over to know it was Aaron. The man sidled up next to him, surveying the darkened landscape. “Figured you’d be up here,” his voice was gentle, but Jesus could hear the thinly veiled concern. “We need to change your bandages soon.”

Jesus ignored the last statement. “They’re still out there, watching…waiting for us to let our guard down…”

“Standing up here all night isn’t going to change that. You need to be resting.”

“I’m fine.” He paused, begrudgingly admitting, “I need to be here. We need to be ready to fight them.”

“We will be,” Aaron assured, gently grasping Jesus’ left forearm, gradually squeezing until the man finally broke his staring contest with the horizon and looked over. “None of us knew. _None_ of us. You can’t keep blaming yourself for what happened. We all thought they were walkers. Seeing that one dodge your sword was the last thing any of us expected. Seeing you get stabbed was the last thing _I_ expected.”

Jesus said nothing for several moments as he regarded Aaron. Returning his gaze to the treeline, his voice was full of loathing when he spoke again.“I got cocky. Cocky gets you killed–you know that, it was lesson number 3. That should have been an easy kill–walker or not–but I was showing off, and it could have cost _all of you_ your lives.”

Aaron could see the ignominious expression that pulled Jesus’ brows together as the other man looked down in shame. He was still holding Paul’s forearm, and he slipped his hand down to Jesus’ in the hope of offering comfort. Jesus pulled his hand away, turning his back slightly to Aaron.

“You should have left me there. You should have run like I told you to.”

“That was never going to happen,” Aaron told him, voice soft but firm. The injury had temporarily limited Jesus’ use of his left arm, restricting him from being able to pull his hair up in the knot he usually sported. The long locks were being tousled in the breeze, and Aaron watched the other man impatiently tuck the strands behind his right ear. Aaron took his arm again, and eased Jesus back around to face him. The man didn’t put up any resistance, but he still refused to meet Aaron’s eyes.

“I know you think you’ve somehow failed, Paul…but you haven’t. I hate to say this–because seeing it happen was the single most horrifying moment of my entire life–but you getting stabbed gave us the knowledge we needed. If that hadn’t happened, if you’d taken that one down and we’d just run away… we’d never have realized that they’re _alive_. We wouldn’t have taken one of them prisoner. We would still be vulnerable and afraid.”

Jesus finally met the other man’s eyes with a look of consternation. “I _am_ still afraid, Aaron. How are we supposed to distinguish between the living and the dead if they look and act the same? They can walk unnoticed amongst a herd! How do you defeat an enemy if you don’t know which one of them is the bigger threat?”

Aaron sifted his fingers through Jesus’ chestnut hair before resting his hand at the back of his neck. He leaned in as he pulled Jesus forward, pressing a lingering kiss against the smaller man’s forehead. He could feel the tension starting to drain out of the other man and Jesus rested his hands against Aaron’s chest. “Depriving yourself of rest isn’t going to help us defeat them. You are the best strategist we have, and we need your mind to be as sharp as your skills.”

Jesus opened his mouth to protest but Aaron anticipated it and put his finger to Paul’s lips, silencing him. Paul gave him an annoyed look, but acquiesced.

“You’re _going_ to heal, but it’s going to take longer if you don’t rest.”

With a sigh of defeat, Jesus looked down at their feet.

“Come back down, and come inside. Please?”

His gaze started to travel back towards the fields and trees beyond the walls, but Aaron’s hand caught his jaw, making Jesus meet his eyes instead.

“ _Please?_ ”

Finally, with a reluctant nod, Jesus agreed to give up his post for the night. Aaron’s hand slid up into his hair once again, and this time he pulled the other man into a tender kiss of gratitude before they made their way down together.


End file.
